The lion masquerading a deer
by Nocte-Somniator
Summary: My name is Luciana Baratheon, first of my name, Princess of Kings Landing. I was born a twin, my brother, the original heir of the Iron Throne, but now I am only one. I've currently had seventeen name days, and approaching the eighteenth... Who knows where my life should lead, what I will become, who I will meet... All I know is that I refuse to play the game of the throne.
1. Chapter 1

Blue sky reigned down across the barren land, and though the weather was nice, the chill was harsh. A large group of men decked on horses made their way across a wide-open field, all circling a horse drawn carriage as they went. The carriage was situated dead center, and to say it was large would be an understatement. The carriage would essentially be able to fit more than seven men inside, and yet, only four rested idly within the wooded walls.

The youngest, a boy with golden hair that would put the sun to shame. The shiny locks rested just above his shoulders, falling delicately into his sea green eyes. He was a little plump in size, still carrying his baby fat, though at nine years old this was no surprise to anyone, he was still very much a child. His birth-name was Tommen, and though his current stature never causes him any fuss, he is always declaring he will one day be as tall as the Hound.

The second youngest, was a girl whom matched Tommen in almost all the same ways. With her sun kissed locks that floated down her back like fine spun silk, and her eyes, a matching pair to her brother's green ones. Though whereas Tommen's matched the sea, hers held a lightness to them that was all her own. Delicate in size, she was the definition of petite, even at the young age of ten the beautiful girl known as Myrcella held a beauty far beyond those around her, not to mention the wits to match most as well.

The eldest of the four, was a refine looking women at the young age of thirty-six, though you could not tell that from the appearance of her face. Her hair was like the youngest child, golden in colouring and resting at her waist. Eyes a green that gleamed and shimmered. High defined cheek bones and thinned lips, she was beautiful. Though something about the cold outer lining of her eyes could put almost anyone on edge. However, not everyone was able to see past her pretty face, leaving this ' _coldness_ ' undetected. Her name was Cersei, queen of the seven kingdoms, mother of all that sat inside the carriage.

The last individual would also be the one who sat out like a sore thumb, with chocolate brown hair that floated down effortlessly to rest just below her breast in a spin of curls. Her face shape resembled that of her mothers, high cheekbones and petite jaw, though her lips were not thin, but full, pouty. Her eyes, much like her siblings in colour was green, though unlike her sibling's flecks of hazel and gold smattered around the pupil making the eyes all her own. Luciana was the eldest of the four children bared by Robert Baratheon and Cersei Lannister. She was also the one who did not bare the blonde shade of hair that her siblings and all Lannisters seemed to share. Which, essentially, made her feel like a thorn in a rose bush.

The fourth child, the one not sat with the sibling trio was the eldest male of the four. Sixteen in age, handsome in appearance, blond hair, green eyes, lanky, packed with little muscles, not to mention he was foul tampered and arrogant, all because he was the heir to the throne.

Joffery Baratheon.

Though in reality, Lucina's twin should have been the next king, and he would have been, if he hadn't gone and died. Something Lucina found great pleasure in mentioning to her brother, always holding it over his head that he was never meant to be king, only luck found him in the position. The twos relationship was rough, neither one getting along and finding sick pleasure in being outright cruel to the other. It was the reason the teenaged prince had taken to riding outside, refusing to sit and listen to his eldest sisters belittling any further. Lucina had always been the better of the two when it came to words. Which, always left her to the opening of her mother's scolding. How acting in such a way wasn't lady like, and she should learn to hold her tongue. She had never been good at that.

A small wistful sigh brushes past Luciana's already parted lips, she leans against the carriage to stare out through the window. She wanted to be out there, riding her own horse, feel the wind in her hair. The carriage was made for comfort and it was nice, but there was nothing better than being atop a horse, especially when travelling to a new place. They had never travelled this far north and she was excited to see what it had to offer. Still, she can't help but grow agitated, starting to fidget and ruffling her dress as she does. The outfit she wore was tightly fitted around her practically none-existent bust, something she thought was a curse but her mother reassured it was a blessing. The sleeves were long, reaching down to her wrists and flaring out. Like all dresses she wore it touches the floor, slightly wider at her hips and extenuating her curves. Cersei had warned them all that the weather was much different from Kings Landing, and the gentle snow flurry outside told Luciana that she was true.

At first, Luciana had questioned the shawls and blankets that was brought along with them, but now she was relishing them. Two were in her lap, her hands curling in and out through the thick fur, trying to keep warm. Turning back from the window, she slouches in her seat, inching the blanket further up her body. Glancing over to her siblings, she watches as Tommen and Myrcella talk in low whispers to one another, a wooden knight in Tommen's hand and a fair maiden in Myrcella's. She smiles watching them, remembering the days where she would play with toys, sometimes she found herself missing them, today was one of those days. Cersei was watching the pair too, posture pin straight as she took in everything they did with a hawk-like gaze.

"Mother," Luciana starts, quickly gaining her attention. "How much longer to Winterfell?" They'd been on the road for weeks, she could tell from the dark circles forming under her siblings eyes she wasn't the only one growing tired.

Before Cersei could answer her, a voice came from the window by her head.

"You know, it's not very becoming of a Princess to be impatient."

Luciana jumps slightly, tuning in her seat to come face to with her uncle. Jamie Lannister. His classically handsome face was turned up in a cheeky grin, trademark green eyes alight with teasing. She scoffs at him, resisting the urge to roll her eyes. "Well it's a grand thing I don't desire to be one then," she retorts sharply, letting her right eyebrow raise as she gives him the infamous Lannister _'I'm better than you'_ gaze.

It was the soft tutting from the other side of the carriage that had the expression simpering, fading to one of innocence and youth. "Luciana," Cersei scolded, both of her eyebrows raised as she gave Luciana a reprimanding stare. She let out a small sigh, that had to be the twentieth time this day she had received _that_ look.

However, luck seemed to be on her side for the first time since the sun rose over the mountains this morning. Her father was coming to her rescue. His booming voice and pudgy face appeared at the window Tommen was sat beside. The poor boy jumps a mile out of his seat in fright when the shout occurs. Luciana stifles a snicker, looking at nothing but the king. She notices that her father's thick beard covered in snowflakes, glistening and glinting in the light and it makes her yearn even more to go outside. His hair used to be almost dark as night but with age greys have started to appear, leaving him old and bedraggled looking. He has a residing hair line and weight he does not need, but he's coming to her rescue and she can't help but smile.

"Don't chastise the girl, women! Let her revel in her will," he grumbles at Cersei, sending her a nasty look before turning to the closest knight and booming. "Strong like iron that one!"

He was talking about her, he was _always_ talking about her when he said things like that. Luciana never knew what it meant, and when she'd ask he'd laugh, give her a shake and carry on his way.

Cersei never knew what he'd had meant either, and the sayings would always cause a scowl to form on her pretty features. Much like one was now. "Maybe so," she starts, looking away from the window to stare at Luciana, expression softening. "But she has beauty like no other," she compliments, raising a hand and leaning forward to run her fingers ever so gently down her eldest child's face.

Like all the times when Luciana received a compliment her cheeks plumed red, a sarcastic response falling from her lips before she could stop it. "You must say that, I'm half of you."

The response Luciana received was no different from the usual one. Cersei's lips curled and her eyes clouded in mirth. "Oh, Luciana," she cooed, tone dropping like she was talking to an infant. "What am I going to do with you my little doe, seventeen years and you are still a mystery to me." Her hand was still on Luciana's cheek, eyes ever analysing.

Luciana didn't know what to say to that, she didn't think she was a mystery. Fair from it in fact. She knew she was many things but a mystery? There was no way.


	2. Chapter 2

When the carriage came to a rolling stop, the three siblings sat bolt right with eagerness. Tommen and Myrcella clasped hands and shared a small giggle with one another, eyes alight with sudden excitement that they were finally there. Cersei softened her gaze at their eagerness, the smallest of smiles curling at her lips as she watched them. Luciana paid no mind to them though, throwing the pelts off her lap and onto the space next to her, she faced the door with bouncing knees. Her body had grown accustomed to the ache of travelling for days on end with little stops, but now at the prospect of getting out and being able to explore, well, Luciana couldn't refrain from blindingly grinning at her uncle whom opened the door for them.

Jamie hadn't known what to expect when he opened the door, but being faced with his nieces animated smile had him smirking. She was the easiest one to read, wearing her thoughts and feelings on her sleeve, her face an open page. Shaking his head in amusement, he held a hand out to her, one she eagerly grasped a hold of. The man let out a warm chuckle as he helped the princess out of the carriage, watching with pleasure as her eyes widened as she took in her surroundings.

Once Jamie's hand was no longer in hers, Luciana took a few tentative steps away from the carriage. She couldn't see the Starks yet, but she could see their home. Towering walls resided all around the courtyard, the stone weary with age, grey and withered. Winterfell was the complete opposite to back home. Where Kings Landing was bright and light, Winterfell held this mystery to it, one that beckoned and called to her. She couldn't wait to answer it.

Smiling to herself, Luciana took a step backwards, intending to turn and make her way back to the carriage and to her family's side but before she could take a single step Joffery's horse blocked her way. The stallion snorting when he almost trampled past her.

"Watch it Joff!" She hissed, rearing back to get out of the way of the now thrashing horses head. Arms momentarily coming up to protect herself from the sting of the reins he loosely held.

Joffery looked down at her as if she was a bug on his shoe, curling his lip back with a sneer, he replied. "Why don't _you_ watch yourself?"

It was his face that irritated her. The looks he gave people, the expression of ' _I'm so much better than you'_ it grinded her the wrong way, and made something bubble under her skin. Taking a quick glance around, making sure the Starks especially were no were near, Luciana quickly spat in his direction, words said like poison as she growled. "Fuck you." A word she had heard spoken from the lips of guards and family alike, a word she was not supposed to utter, but when it came to her brother, rules and decency didn't matter so much. Besides, she took great pleasure at the offended look that spread across his narrowed features. His eyes wide and mouth falling ajar to no doubt cry out for their mother, however there was no need for him to do so, for she was already there.

"Come again?" Cersei spoke, stepping around the stallion, hand still in Jamie's as she eyed her eldest with disdain and scolding.

Caught out and flushed, Luciana held the older women's gaze, knowing full well hiding from her would provide no help. "Nothing mother," she assured, ignoring the smirk her uncle was throwing her and making sure to look as honest as possible. Thankfully, before Cersei could question her further—mouth open to do just that—Tommen stumbled out of the carriage, landing on all fours with a pitiful little moan. Attention no longer on her, Luciana looked up at her younger brother, knowing full well not to cause a scene, but unable to help herself, she bared her teeth and taunted. "You know, you match your sword Joff. Both of you are nothing more than a _prick_."

"Mother!"

Coiling back for another scolding, Luciana waited for her mother to jump to attention at her favourites cry, but it wasn't Cersei that came to Joffery's aide, but Robert. Though their father wasn't much aide at all. Eyes dark and harrowing, he all but pulled Joffery from his saddle, hand engulfing his skinny arm as he forced him to stand beside Luciana. The pair looking nothing more than petulant children. "Enough! Another word from either of you and I swear to the old and new gods that I'll…!" He paused, mouth musing and beard twisting. His eyes darted up, looking out across the courtyard for a moment before turning back to his eldest children. "One more smart-ass remark out of you and you'll be out in the cold, you understand me?"

He was talking to them both, but only Joffery bothered to give a reply. "Yes father." His dutiful response ringing out quickly.

Luciana on the other hand was more Baratheon than even her father would like to admit. Jaw locked and eyes alight she almost glowered up at him, though slowly, anger simpering, she uttered sourly "Yes father." Robert kept the both of them in front of him for a moment, eyeing them with warning that rang loudly. Clearly seeing something he was happy with, he released them and carried on his way. Neither sibling moved until he was out of eye line, and once he was, they shared a look, a look of anger. Nothing bonded the two more than an adult intervening.

Luciana didn't know why their parents acted like that when they argued. Their father wanted Luciana to respect Joffery, but Joffery was to respect her as well. But he didn't respect his brothers, Stannis and Renly. In fact, what he did say about them was never supposed to be heard by the ears of children. And Cersei, well Cersei wanted them to all get along. Lean on one another, trust each other. But she was being hypocrite, sure, her and Jamie were as thick as thieves but her and her other brother, Tyrion, well, their mother didn't seem to hate anyone more.

So how were they supposed to act with one another? Luciana loved her siblings so much, but she could only handle them for so long, Joffery fair less than the others.

With a sigh, she stepped away from her brother, turning to face the courtyard and watching as everyone milled around in a coordinated mess. Everyone's faces blurred until one stood out. A young boy—no _girl_ , ran across the courtyard, helm on her head as she scuttled past the Starks, intentions made clear as she tried to settle in line with the others. Though before she could move further down, Ned Stark's hand latches out and connects with her shoulder bringing her to a stop. It was Arya Stark. The helmet no longer on her head and discarded to the floor, the brunette child looked up with innocence as her father sternly frowned back at her. His expression didn't last for long through, sighing heavily he nudged her in the direction of her brothers, watching with a frown as she shoved her way in between her red headed sister and younger brother, growling all the way.

Luciana didn't know what it was, but she liked that girl. She was one hundred percent pure wolf.

A hand entangling itself with the side of her dress, caught her attention. Tommen's fingers were tugging on her skirt, his eyes imploring hers as he asked. "Is that them?"

Nodding her head, Luciana untangled his hand, and instead held it in her own. "Yes, I believe so." Taking another look at the Starks she couldn't see features yet, not in detail. All were dark haired bar two of the women whose hair was a vibrant shade or red, the colour standing out against the dreary colours of Winterfell.

"Their different from what I imagined." Tommen spoke again, receiving a nod of agreement from Myrcella who stood dutifully next to her younger brother, hands clasped in front of her.

A harsh scoff sounded behind the three, Joffery walking to stand in line with them, head raised, and one hand on the hilt of his sword. "What, you actually thought they'd look like wolves?" He ridiculed Tommen, eyeing the boy in disbelief.

"Well…" Tommen started, only to stop when realising what Joffery had insinuated. "No, course not!" His little face flamed red, cheeks puffing out as his bottom lip wobbled, upset.

Luciana resisted the urge to shove Joffery, they were in sight of the Starks now and Robert would go mental if he was to witness such a thing. So, instead, she sent him a dirty look before putting a soothing hand on Tommen's head. "Ignore him Tommen. They're not like I imagined either," putting on a tone of reassurance as she urged the boy a few steps ahead, following the path their mother took to stand closer to the Starks.

Before they could make it to Cersei's side however, their father stalked past them, sending them a narrowed gaze as he grumbled. "Best behaviour, all of you." He warned, waggling a finger in their direction before turning his back on them. Barely hearing their obedient reply of ' _Yes father_.'

With his warning to his children still hanging in the air, Robert moved away from them, arrogantly striding into the centre of the courtyard to meet the Starks. Men and women alike dropped to their knees at his presence, a wave of hush running across Winterfell. When the King was mere feet from the wolves, they all tipped their heads in respect, but none going as far as physically bowing. Ned Stark was the first to pull his head back, eyeing the King in front of him with what Luciana could only describe as mirth.

"You're Grace." Ned greeted, tone polite but no doubt warm.

Robert didn't greet him back, not in the proper way anyway. Instead, he eyed the Lord before him, beady eyes scrutinising, before scoffing. "You've got fat."

Ned didn't react offended, instead, he slanted his head and raised his eyebrows. Expression one that screamed _'your one to talk.'_ The King and Lord held each other's gazes for a few more seconds before the air of formality crumbled around them. Robert let out a booming laugh, and Ned's features softened enough to have the years dropping off him as he smiled. Robert raised a hand and clapped the Lord's shoulder, jostling him as he continued to laugh to himself. Finding humour in their age and weight gain. Luciana didn't see how, she couldn't imagine anything worse.

Once the two old friends stepped back from one another, Robert noticed the red headed women standing by Ned's side. The smile stayed on his face as he called out. "Cat!"

Catelyn's thin lips tipped up ever so slightly, her narrowed features not softening like her husbands before her had. "Your Grace," she greeted, dipping her head once more. Luciana couldn't help but think the red headed women held a regal air around her, much like her own mother—though Cersei's air was entirely different and almost suffocating. But this Catelyn Stark most definitely had something about her, something you did not want to cross.

Robert's voice hit her ears, the tone commanding but friendly. "Nine years! Why haven't I seen you? Where the hell have you been?" He accused Ned before him, eyes narrowed and stern.

Ned quirked little more than a fond, but exasperated smile. "Guarding the North for you, Your Grace. Winterfell is yours."


End file.
